Chapter 2 - The Race to the Estate
I turned to look at the stranger standing by the grand double doors of the ballroom.
He was a tall, imposing man with cold gray eyes and a scar running down his jawline.
Vanessa gasped and dropped her champagne flute, the glass shattering loudly against the marble floor.
"Uncle Arthur," Vanessa whispered, her face turning as pale as her wedding dress.
I had never met this man, nor had his name ever been mentioned during the wedding planning.
Arthur walked slowly toward our table, ignoring the horrified stares of the wealthy wedding guests.
"I decided to expedite the moving process, Vanessa," Arthur said with a cruel smirk.
He looked directly at me and tipped his head in a mock bow.
"Thank you for the beautiful accommodations, Mrs. Sterling," he said.
I did not waste another second looking at these treacherous people.
I turned my back on my son, walked straight out of the country club, and signaled my driver.
Marcus had been my head of security for ten years, and he immediately knew something was terribly wrong.
"We are going to Willowbrook, right now," I ordered as I climbed into the back of the town car.
I pulled out my phone and dialed the private number for the county sheriff.
Sheriff Hayes had been a close friend of my late husband, and he promised to meet me at the front gates.
The drive felt like an eternity, my mind racing through every legal document my husband and I had ever signed.
It was true that Andrew's name was on a trust document, but he did not have the authority to lease the historic wing.
When we pulled up to the wrought-iron gates of Willowbrook Estate, my heart stopped completely.
Four massive moving trucks were parked carelessly across my manicured front lawn.
Deep tire tracks ruined the rose gardens I had spent five years cultivating.
Dozens of rough-looking men were carrying heavy wooden crates into the guest wing.
Sheriff Hayes was already there, standing by his cruiser with his hand resting cautiously on his service weapon.
I rushed out of the car, demanding that he arrest every single person on my property.
"Eleanor, I need you to calm down and look at this," Sheriff Hayes said, handing me a clipboard.
It was a copy of the lease agreement Andrew had mentioned at the wedding.
"I can't evict them based on a family dispute over a shared trust," the sheriff explained sympathetically.
I snatched the clipboard and read the details of the fraudulent lease.
My eyes widened in absolute horror as I read the rental price Andrew had agreed to.
He had leased the entire guest wing, including my husband's private study, for one dollar a month.
"This is fraud," I stated firmly, handing the clipboard back to the sheriff.
I marched past the police cruiser and walked straight through my own front door.
The inside of my beautiful home looked like a chaotic war zone.
Vanessa's mother was loudly ordering men to throw my expensive antique vases into the trash.
"Stop this immediately!" I screamed, my voice echoing off the high ceilings.
Vanessa's mother turned around, holding a framed photograph of my late husband.
She smiled wickedly and dropped the frame onto the hardwood floor, intentionally shattering the glass.
"You don't make the rules here anymore, old woman," she sneered.
Before I could react, Marcus stepped in front of me to block a large man who was approaching us.
It was Arthur, the terrifying uncle from the wedding reception.
He was holding a crowbar in one hand and a thick manila envelope in the other.
"You need to leave, Eleanor," Arthur warned, his voice low and dangerous.
"This is my house, and I will see you rot in a prison cell," I fired back without flinching.
Arthur chuckled and pulled a single piece of aged parchment from the envelope.
"I don't think you will be calling the police anymore after you read this," he said, handing the paper to Marcus.
Marcus inspected the document, and all the color instantly drained from his face.
May you like
"Mrs. Sterling," Marcus whispered, his voice trembling for the first time since I had known him.
"This is a signed confession from your late husband, admitting he stole this entire estate from Arthur's father."
